Thousands of years ago, the holy dragon soared to protect the people. They protect the peace of the continent with their divine power and are regarded as the cornerstone of the world. However, a legend about the ancient "Chaos Source Core" induced the deepest greed. The former allies suddenly turned against each other, and the carefully crafted lies and ambush turned into poisonous daggers stabbing into the dragon's heart. The glorious dragon clan, along with the secrets they guarded, were reduced to dust in the roar of flames and betrayal, leaving only legends and curses whispering in the cracks of history.
Time flies and the legend fades. No one knew that the purest ray of holy dragon soul in that massacre had not completely dissipated. Instead, it was sealed into an unknown withered bone left in the deepest part of the ancient battlefield by some taboo resentment and accident - the weathered and almost shattered kneecap. After thousands of years of death, the dragon soul was immortal and resentful, but it was reincarnated, awakening the last bit of spirituality left in this skeleton.
The withered bones "awoke", and the empty eye sockets ignited with cold soul fire. It has no memory, only the broken screams and overwhelming hatred in the dragon soul brand, and the power of the dragon soul at its knees that is as hot as a soldering iron and bound like shackles. It crawled out from the corpse mountain and sea of bones, used the remains as a weapon, fed on the evil spirits, and embarked on a journey that was aimless but with a clear goal: to tear open the bloody mist buried by time, devour all creatures tainted with the aura of betrayal, recover the keel, and reconstruct the truth.
It walked through desolate ancient battlefields, stepped into prosperous human city-states, and dived into the dark underground world. Wherever he goes, strange things follow him: the dead whisper, the shadows stir, and the occasional leak of the dragon soul's pressure is enough to make the strong palpitate. It's like a moving disaster
